


Something Like Home

by Mira



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-13
Updated: 2008-08-13
Packaged: 2017-10-15 14:09:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mira/pseuds/Mira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was Faith John, and Rodney would take care of him till he was able to take care of them again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> A birthday present for darling [Cate](http://sheafrotherdon.livejournal.com)

And a man shall be as an hiding place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest; as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land.  
\-- Isaiah 32:2

  


Something like Christmas lights glimmered in front of them. Rodney studied the little lamps, curling away from Caha-o's now-empty home. He squatted next to one and nudged it gently with his finger. "Elizabeth would have liked these," he murmured.

"The clay lamps symbolize his many years," Espe-o said, wiping her eyes. "So many. I cannot imagine my life without him."

"Like _luminarias_ ," John said, nodding.

"Yes? This is your tradition, too?" Espe-o asked, but then bells began to ring and she motioned them to follow her.

Already a crowd was collecting, for Caha-o had been a popular man, considered wise and practical, though eccentric. He had brought the Atlanteans here to trade Philosophies, and the relationship had grown in many ways and for many people. Rodney had liked and respected him. He knew that John had, too.

Night was coming on; the glowing trail of clay lamps wound through the village, over the arched bridge spanning the creek that cut the settlement in half, and through the stand of sacred _asha_ trees surrounding the settlement. Everyone carried a small bell, or wore them on their wrists or ankles. John and Rodney rang theirs, joining the rhythmic clanging. Rodney's was around his neck on a long leather thong; John held his in his left hand. They tended to ring in unison, like a village of Salvation Army bell ringers.

The winding path was longer than Rodney had anticipated and, despite the cacophony, he was able to sink into a kind of meditation -- at least, he thought Teyla would call it that. As they stepped slowly, in time with the bells, so many people before and behind them, he remembered all the deaths in his life: his mother's mother when he was a little boy; his parents; so many friends and colleagues and even enemies that he'd made and lost.

His country. His planet. His home. Lost to him, the bells rang: gone, gone, gone.

He realized the sound was dying out ahead of him. Espe-o had stopped ringing her bell, though her granddaughter still shook hers vigorously, and behind Rodney others continued to ring. They came together, crowding in a loose circle around Caha-o's naked body. Espe-o and their children had washed him earlier; Rodney had been asked to help, but he'd only made a ritual pass over Caha-o's face with the dripping sponge. John had waited with the youngest children, keeping them quiet and entertained.

"I'm sorry that Teyla and Ronon didn't come up with us," he said quietly to Espe-o. "They will miss Caha-o." He paused and said, "I'll miss Caha-o."

She put her hand on his forearm; even in the dim light, Rodney could see the blue of her veins and her knobby knuckles. "Caha-o died well, Sage Rodney," she said, her voice no louder than the whisper of the trees. "He loved you all: Sage Teyla and Sage Ronon as well. Most of all, he was grateful that he'd lived long enough to work with you."

Rodney swallowed hard. He didn't know how to respond, so he put his hand on Espe-o's and held it gently. She turned away to watch as her late husband was arranged on the forest floor.

Rodney wasn't comfortable with seeing his old friend naked and shriveled, but he wasn't comfortable with a lot of things; this was just one more. Espe-o and their oldest daughter, Abhi-o, had explained that they must bathe him gently, then carry him to the waiting place in the forest, where he would lie surrounded by friends and family through the night. "He doesn't know," Abhi-o told Rodney seriously. "We must tell him that he is dead."

Rodney thought it was one of the stupidest things he'd ever heard, but Abhi-o was so serious, and Espe-o so sad, that he'd just nodded. Now he stood in the damp woods, lights flickering at his feet, encircled by almost the entire _yein-e_ , all murmuring "Weesh, weesh," or maybe "Hush, hush"; Rodney couldn't tell. John slid his way through the crowd till he stood next to Rodney, and Rodney accidentally-on-purpose bumped into him, and stayed, their arms pressed together.

When people stopped jostling and quieted down, circled around Caha-o's body, they began ringing their bells again. "Weesh, weesh," they said, and Rodney and John did, too, shaking their bells but more softly now. "Weesh, weesh," Rodney sighed. The night grew colder, and soon billows of white smoked out with each breath. Some of the candles guttered and went out. There was no fire, no moons, and no stars could be seen from where they stood beneath the canopy of the forest. Just cold still air, icy in Rodney's throat, pure and thin as if the cold were freezing the oxygen out of the air. John shivered fiercely, so Rodney put his arm around him and they pressed closer. "Weesh," he whispered, and turned to John.

His arm grew weary of ringing the bell, so he rested. His feet ached from standing on the iron-hard cold ground. Others stopped ringing as well, and soon there were only a few bells breaking in the night. Rodney could hear insects making insect noises: whirring and clicking. A night bird called harshly, a sharp cough as if trying to draw someone's attention. He began to ring his bell again, stamping his feet in time, trying to warm up.

The night grew colder. He pulled one of his scarves up to cover his mouth and nose, and wiped his eyes running from the cold. Rodney wished that he and John were back with Ronon and Teyla, warm and cozy and drinking hot _bhujati_ from _asha_ bowls. He sniffled, mostly from the cold, but also because poor old Caha-o looked so sad lying there in the cold, waiting for the earth to absorb him, blue in the flickering light of whatever fueled the candle-lamps. He'd be there one day, Rodney thought, and John and Teyla and even Ronon, as impossible as that was to imagine; they'd all be lying in the cold, waiting to believe they were dead.

The night dragged on, interminably long, colder than stone. Rodney's knees kept buckling, and his toes burned, and John was too thin to give off much heat. He yawned and yawned, shook his bell harder to wake himself up. Parents had steered the little kids home, but the elderly and middle-aged remained, ringing bells, crying at times, speaking softly if at all. Beside him, John shook his bell, and they both shook from the cold. This night will never end, Rodney thought, his eyes closing.

When he opened them, he realized mist was rising from the moist soil, thick with moldering _asha_ leaves. From the corner of his eyes he caught glimpse of twisting white lines, coiling at knee level before slowly drifting into the empty boughs just above their heads. The mist caught there, and he stood knee-deep in pale white mist with another layer above him. He kept twisting his head, trying to see it more clearly, but only in peripheral vision did the mist glow softly.

He waited for the mist to thicken, to form above Caha-o, but it continued to shimmer just beyond resolution. The colder the night grew, the closer he pressed to John, the worse he felt. The mist continued to twist askant, catching his attention but never letting him really see.

He heard John's teeth chattering, and realized his own arms were twitching involuntarily from the cold. He couldn't remember being this miserable and not being imprisoned. He wanted to go home. He imagined himself in bed with John, the covers heavy over them, his belly full and his bladder empty. But no; he stood shivering in the milky fog. It was Caha-o who lay in his final bed -- no, not Caha-o, for Caha-o was gone; he'd died in Rodney's arms in the D'wi labs , of natural causes, but dead is dead, Rodney thought, and shook harder. He saw John looking at him, heard the bell on the ribbon around his neck tremble, while the mist rose around them, hovering above them, above him, and then John's gloved hand curled around his neck and bent Rodney's head to John's shoulder, and Rodney gasped in sorrow and pain.

 _I'm crying_ , he thought, and let himself. Caha-o had been a good man; not as brilliant as Rodney or Radek, but he'd loved mathematics and that meant they'd spoken the same language, because what is mathematics but a recognition of the patterns of the universe, the home they shared. _Lost in a wilderness_ , Caha-o used to say, rubbing his bald head and grinning crookedly at Rodney; _that's all we can do, is march into the wilderness and find what we find._

Now Rodney stood in an icy wilderness weeping for his friend who was gone, shivering violently while John held him. He took a deep breath, and wiped his face on his scarf. "Sorry," he muttered, but John shook him gently. He looked up, meeting John's eyes, narrowed against the cold, and then something caught his eye above them. They both looked up; the mist hovering just overhead had thickened. Rodney pulled John to him, shoulder to hip, their bulky gear compressed and crackling, as they stared upwards. The mist began to glow a brighter white, subtly but surely, and he suddenly knew that night was ending.

Caha-o was gone, Rodney thought miserably. His friend was gone.

When the white glow was bright enough to cast shadows, Espe-o came to them, leaning heavily against Abhi-o. Both their faces were calm, much calmer than Rodney felt. He bowed to them, especially to Espe-o, whom he respected as a brilliant if self-taught materials engineer. She had worked closely with Rodney on several projects, including the meta-shield created in the D'wi labs.

She reached for him, and he took her hands, realizing how frail she had become. "It is time," she said firmly, but for a moment Rodney didn't know what she meant. "Now. Immediately."

John said, "Sage Espe-o, are you sure? This will be so much work."

"Faith John, now. We are ready. Caha-o sent word out just last Moon." She looked away. "Perhaps he heard the otherworld calling him." She pursed her lips, then said, "There will be a ship waiting at Port He-a."

John put his hand on the back of his neck and looked at Rodney, who shrugged. He felt a bit wild-eyed at the thought of moving an entire village, but he knew that when Espe-o had decided something, it was done.

"Sage Rodney," she said, and smiled coyly at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, you're adorable, and you always get your way."

She laughed, and slapped his hand lightly, saying, "Fish must swim, Sage, in whatever sea they live."

He looked at John, who spread his hands. "Then I guess we swim."

  


Something like Canadian Border Services officials, all wearing opaque visors stood nearly at attention, observing from their positions surrounding the deckhouse. Rodney studied them as surreptitiously as he could, but they seemed uninterested in any passengers.

"Hey," Ronon interrupted his thoughts.

"Where's Sheppard?" Rodney asked him as Ronon came forward, weaving across the crowded deck. With Teyla's help, they'd secured themselves a seat in the bow where the air was fresh and the kids screamed in delight at each roll of the ship.

"Wanted to puke in private."

Rodney shook his head, pushing the hair back from his face and then twisting to face into the wind. "He gets lost on foot, he pukes on board ship -- how is this guy a pilot?" He felt Teyla's gaze and decided he had puzzled over John enough. "I'm hungry." He rummaged through the pack he'd been holding. "Still some sandwiches, and that apple thing, and, ooh, look, Abhi-o packed us a big bowl of _keras_ , mmm." He held out the container to Teyla, who opened it for him, but Ronon stole it away and began handing out the _keras_ fruit to the other passengers. "Hey," Rodney called, but took the apple thing instead.

"There are more," Teyla comforted him. She took half a sandwich and settled close to Rodney.

"Cold?" he asked her.

"Just a bit. It is, I believe, the coolest day since we came down to the river."

"God, it was _freezing_ up on the mountain." He sighed, remembering standing all night in the freezing mist, watching poor old Caha-o's body. "I'm glad you didn't come up."

Teyla kissed his cheek. "I am sorry about your friend."

Rodney rubbed his nose. "Yeah. He was . . . not completely stupid."

"He was a good friend to you," Teyla scolded him.

"I know. It's true. I just never imagined -- well." He sighed. "The world is so different from what I imagined." He made a rueful face. "And I have a pretty powerful imagination." Teyla took his hand and they sat quietly, Rodney watching the changing light against the water around them. He caught sight of Ronon through the crowd and nudged Teyla. "I really wish he wouldn't do that," Rodney whispered into her ear; Ronon was handing out _keras_ fruits to the border agents.

"He believes in hiding in plain sight," Teyla whispered back. Rodney sighed.

The ship rolled unpleasantly; winds were coming up, and when Rodney twisted to look ahead, he saw dark clouds skimming the horizon. "We're heading into a storm," he pointed out. Teyla turned to look as well. The sky above them was clear blue, reflected in the ocean they sailed through, but ahead the clouds darkened the sky to a deep blue shading into purple. "Look at the cumulonimbus," he said. "Squall line."

She shivered, and he put an arm around her. "The seasons are changing," she murmured. "Life is changing."

"Hey," he said, and kissed her temple. They sat in the sun, storm approaching, but for the moment the ocean was calm and they were together.

Ronon returned, munching _keras_ , his mouth and right hand stained bright red from them. "Greedy," Rodney grumbled at him, and Ronon bent down to kiss Rodney, then popped a _keras_ fruit into Rodney's mouth. Teyla lifted her head from Rodney's shoulder and looked meaningfully at Ronon, who obediently kissed her as well, then sat down next to her, pushing them over. Rodney squawked. "Hey, I'm gonna fall off this bench!"

"Come sit in my lap then," Ronon said calmly. "Any more sandwiches?"

The ship shuddered and rose sharply, and the wind slapped against Rodney's back hard enough to shove him into Teyla. He turned to face the wind, Teyla shifting with him. The temperature was dropping and the clouds had eaten the sky above them. He tilted his head back to watch the ragged bottom of the shelf cloud scudding overhead.

"The clouds appear green," Teyla said.

"Gonna be a bad one," Ronon said, and Rodney nodded. "Oughta dope up Sheppard."

The ship lifted again, and rolled a bit to port, enough to make Ronon slide into Teyla and Rodney, and the kids shouted, one little girl began crying, and the border services agents came down from the deckhouse to mill through the crowd. "We should go below," Rodney muttered. Teyla packed up their lunch and Ronon grabbed the packs, swinging them easily across his back.

They joined a press of their fellow passengers heading below deck to the tiny cabins. Most were packed three to a cabin, but they'd chosen to fit all four into one, even though the bunks were uncomfortably narrow -- though fortunately long enough for Rodney and John, if not Ronon, who'd made himself a sleeping nest on the floor in front of the desk. He rolled it up each morning and sat on it during the day, and this is where he settled when they squeezed into their cabin. "Go 'way," John said. Rodney thought he looked greener than the clouds they were sailing into.

"Poor fella," he said, mostly seriously. He crouched next to John's bunk, on the bottom so John could reach a pan more easily.

"Wash his face and hands, Rodney," Teyla told him, passing him a damp cloth. "I must check on the others."

"I'll come with you," Ronon said, scrambling up.

Rodney turned back to John, who looked pinched and tense. "Hey," he said gently. "There's a storm blowing up."

"Shit."

"Yeah. I'm going to clean you up a bit and then give you some more _vama_." John made a face but didn't protest. His muscles relaxed as Rodney wiped the sweat from his face and neck, and then his hands. "Are you getting enough fluids?" Rodney asked him.

"Why? Just puke 'em up."

"Come on. Sit up for me." He tugged John up. "Just a sip of water, then the _vama_ , okay?" The water was lightly flavored with _hewi_ , which Rodney loved; he thought it tasted like watermelon. John gulped at it, sighing when Rodney pulled away the bowl. "Okay, now this stuff."

"Ick," John said, but, wrinkling his nose, he opened his mouth and swallowed the medicine. "As awful as that is, it really does help," he said as Rodney smoothed the bedsheets for John. "Thanks. More water?"

"Lie down," Rodney said when John pushed away the bowl. He dragged Ronon's sleep roll next to John's bunk and settled, groaning with relief.

"How bad a storm?"

Rodney shrugged. "I'm not a meteorologist, but the clouds looked pretty bad, and you must have felt the wind pick up. We'll get some rain, that's certain."

John sighed and rested an arm across his eyes. "I'll be so glad when we're home."

"Yeah. Just another day till we're back on land, though."

"I don't want to leave again," John said. He peeked out at Rodney.

"I can go, if it comes to that," Rodney said. "Ronon'll come with me and Teyla can stay with you. But I'd rather just stay home for a while."

"That'd be great." He sighed again. Rodney rested his hand on John's shoulder. The ship pitched suddenly, the bow rising and then dropping. "Here we go," Rodney muttered. An enormous rushing noise shuddered the hull; Rodney knew it was the sea rising around them.

"You okay?" John asked.

Rodney hung onto his bunk as the ship rolled from port to starboard. "Uh," he said. John scooted back and held open the covers. "Too narrow," Rodney said, but the ship rolled back, pushing him into John, so he let his momentum continue into the bed. They shifted around until John lay on his side and Rodney on his back, John half draped over him.

Ronon swung into their compartment, clinging to the door. "Teyla and I are gonna stay with the others," he announced. "You two be all right?"

"Fine," Rodney said, making a pushing gesture with his hand. "Go, go. Take care of yourself."

"And Teyla," John added. Ronon snorted and slammed the door shut as the ship rolled starboard again, shoving him out into the corridor. "Ohhhhh," John groaned.

"Let that _vama_ work," Rodney said, feeling helpless. "And don't puke on me."

"Don't say 'puke,'" John told him faintly. Rodney tightened his hold on John and shut his eyes as the bow lifted again, and again he heard the rumble of water. "Hang on," John murmured.

"It's going to be a bumpy ride," Rodney said, and John huffed a quiet laugh. Abruptly, the ship rolled port, squishing Rodney into John.

"Hey," John said, and for the first time in a day and a half, smiled.

Rodney kissed his nose. "Hey."

"The _vama_ dose's working." John's eyes were half-closed; he looked louche and sleepy. Rodney smiled back at him, and yawned. He crawled over John to keep him from slamming into the cold hull, and to give him better access to the pan on the floor. "Elbow in my ribs," John complained.

"Almost there," Rodney said, wriggling. John pushed his ass into Rodney's lap, so Rodney wrapped his arms around him, kissing the back of his neck. "Okay, that's it. Now we just hang on."

John snored. Rodney hoped the _vamas_ would let John sleep throughout the storm, although the pitch and roll of the ship, the shuddering vibrations of the seas, the slam of the waves into the bow, the almost infrasonic vibration -- the microbaroms? he wondered: they all conspired to keep Rodney braced and awake.

Caha-o and Espe-o had called John by the title _Faith_ , and it had spread among their friends and allies, everyone who knew John and his actions. Even Rodney thought it was fitting, because no one had more faith in his people or in the future than did John. Despite what Rodney had said to Teyla, he didn't like to tease John about his seasickness, and he hated seeing him ill like this. John was, he had long decided, the hope and faith of them all. Rodney knew that John preferred to think of himself as the protector and warrior, and he was that as well, but more than anything else, he was the embodiment of their dreams and hard work.

He was Faith John, and Rodney would take care of him till he was able to take care of them again.

As Rodney lay in John's bunk, squashed against the hull, he felt every tremor, every vibration. He thought he could hear an engine complain, hiccuping desperately at times, hitching sporadically as the night grew colder and darker. At last Rodney couldn't bear it. He slid toward the head of the bunk and out, trying not to kick John, who grumbled but didn't wake; the _vama_ still worked.

The corridor echoed with slamming doors and the sound of the downpour and equipment rattling in its tie-downs. Rodney bounced from wall to wall as he made his way up to the deck. He didn't think it was raining, but water fountained onto the deck from the towering waves the ship worked through. Even above the rushing water and shouting men he could hear the whine of the struggling engine. He began to run, splashing water with each step, grateful for the tread on his boots. He saw the problem: the sun-sheet battens hadn't been reefed -- the engine controlling them was whining loud enough to hear over the pounding waves. Two men stood over the engine, not doing a thing; Rodney rushed at them, skidding on the wet deck, then kicked off the engine cover. He flung himself next to the engine and, with a blade Ronon had given him, sliced the lines. The engine's whine increased, but the battens folded down and the angle of the ship lessened a bit.

Water flooded the deck and poured into the engine. When he washed back out, he saw the problem: the engine wasn't powered by naquadah, but by a crystal. He knew the Ancients hadn't built this ship, but someone had grafted the engine onto it to control the battens. He stared at the crystal, which sat beneath the cylinder ports. He leaned closer, wishing he had a sonic screwdriver, and then realized he did, sort of. He pulled out his jury-rigged Life Signs Detector and stripped off the cover. Seawater washed over him, and he shook his head and spit, then carefully held the LSD as close to the damaged crystal as he could. Braced against the cold, wet deck, his hands were shaking from tension and the beginning of hypothermia, but the crystal began to vibrate with the engine's, producing multiple harmonic overtones Rodney could feel through his skin. As he'd hoped, the healthy crystal in the LSD began to influence the engine's flawed one, and slowly they synchronized. While Rodney crouched in the drenching rain, the deckhands reefed the baffles and drew them down.

Cramped and cold, Rodney stood at last, wiping the rain and seawater off his face. He was soaked and exhausted, but the engine could be shut down without exploding now. When he looked up, he saw the captain standing in the midst of several border agents. "Thank you," the captain shouted, and took Rodney's arm. "Say nothing," he whispered in Rodney's ear. "Get changed," he shouted, and slapped Rodney on the back. Rodney hurried away as quickly as he could on the slippery, pitching deck.

He was shaking hard when he got back to their cabin, but John was still sleeping, though sweating a bit. Rodney was happy to throw off his clothes and climb back into bed; he held onto John, hoping he wouldn't wake him.

John threw up a couple of more times during the night, but the _vamas_ dose really did work and, though he couldn't eat, he was able to stay hydrated; Rodney saw to that. By morning, he was making plans about getting the people through the checkpoints. "These are not your droids," he said thoughtfully, and Rodney saw he was nearly serious. John looked at Rodney.

"We can do this," Rodney said firmly. No use sharing his fears with anyone anymore; they all knew the risks.

John nodded. "Straight on 'til morning," he said. He was sitting on the edge of the bunk; he'd managed to eat half a sandwich and drink some water. His eyes were sticky with sleep and he needed a shave, but at least he wasn't green anymore.

"It _is_ morning, so this is it."

John grinned at him, the rare grin that made Rodney grin back at him. John opened his mouth to say something, but there was a sudden thump as Ronon flung open the door. "Time to go," he said.

Rodney had counted close to a thousand souls from Caha-o's village and labs, mostly students and engineers, but two dozen-plus children and as many elderly Philosophers. "First, make a home," Caha-o had told Rodney, who respected him enough not to sneer, but as they struggled together, Rodney came to believe that Caha-o was right. The Ancient Database was parcellated among many survivors and shared with the Philosophers; the study of it had become a discipline in its own right in just a few years. "Akrotiri," he had told John over a late meal one night when they still were traveling.

"Another lost city?"

"How do you know this stuff?"

"What about Akrotiri?"

"I think it's real, as real as Atlantis. Better, Caha-o and I think we know where it is." They stared at each across the flickering candle.

John had slowly grinned. "Then Team Sheppard better check it out."

Off on another adventure, Rodney had thought, grinning back, and that was so much better than vainly dreaming of the doubly lost city of Atlantis.

Now they rose from John's bunk, John still shaky but Ronon had him by an elbow. Rodney grabbed their packs and Ronon's bedroll. He followed them into the corridor, but had to stop: the captain stood between two deckhands, one carrying the cloak of a Logician. "Sage Rodney, stay away from your _yein-e_ till you are well ashore," the captain said quietly. Ronon helped Rodney pull the cloak around him. "We were boarded in Port He-a by these visors. I don't know who they're looking for, but it's best not to draw attention, yes?"

"Yes," Rodney agreed, clutching the cloak tightly, the packs and bedroll swelling it till he must look like a blue Santa Claus. "Thank you."

The captain nodded, and headed deeper into the ship. The deckhands led them up.

The wind was still high though as they came up on deck Rodney saw that the rain had stopped for the moment. Clouds hung thick and low above them, a curdled purple, obviously still full of rain. He hoped they could get everyone through the gate before the rain started again.

The ship was crowded with people, many of whom Rodney recognized from the labs but many he did not. The border service agents looked sternly down on them from the deckhouse, and four stood by each gangplank. Their faces were as blank as Wraith drones, Rodney thought, and tried not to shudder in disgust.

He slipped away from John and Rodney, trying to look bored and important. Years had passed since he'd felt any genuine fear that he was being hunted, but his gut remembered and burned with acid. He joined a shuffling line and slowly made his way to the gangplank. He felt a chill as he passed the border service agents; he knew they were studying him from behind their dark visors. But they didn't stop him, or anyone else that he saw.

He sighed with relief when he stepped onto the dock, and again when he was on solid ground. Rodney still carried all their packs, but two of the older kids. O-o and Bha-o, took them from him, grinning at him, so he stood back to watch for Teyla. She looked harried, her hair falling into her face, but she had spent the night with the younger kids. Jinto was herding three Philosophers, all moving very slowly, and Rodney saw his partner, Lal, helping two more.

Someone tugged at Rodney's pant leg, and he looked down at Gana-o, Espe-o's youngest grandchild. She held up her arms to him. "All right, all right," he said, and lifted her up. "Where's mummy?" he asked her, but she put her thumb in her mouth and her head on his shoulder. "Abhi-o!" he shouted, and saw her head pop up; she was helping her pregnant friend Chu-o.

"Sage Rodney, thank you," she said as they drew near. Chu-o looked as sick as John had been. "We will be so glad to set foot on dry land again."

"You and me both," Rodney said, and they merged into the thinning crowd. He hurried Chu-o as much as he could until they could meet his team in the marketplace by the _keras_ fruit stand.

John looked much better; he was eating an apple-thing and talking to Teyla when Rodney joined them. "Oh, Chu-o, you must sit down," Teyla said, and led her to a box of supplies to sit on. Abhi-o took Gana-o from Rodney and followed them, passing Ronon who came to join Rodney and John.

"Everybody of ours is ashore," Ronon said, peering over their heads back toward the ship. "The guards stayed onboard."

"Thank god," Rodney said. He realized now how worried he'd been that they'd follow him after his adventures the prior night. He also realized, now that he was finally still, that he was chilly. He wrapped his arms around himself, pulling the Logician's cloak tighter. "Where's the gate?"

John pointed to his right. "There's a big square; it's at one end of it. God knows how long it'll take to get everybody through, plus there are others going elsewhere."

"How's it organized?" Rodney asked.

Ronon said, "Two times ago, when the Ik went through from here, they had to wait till everyone else had gone." The Ik had been another large group, the largest until today. "We should get people settled in the square, and fed and watered."

"They're not _horses_ ," Rodney said, but mildly; he was getting colder, and Ronon was right; he was hungry. The three of them found Espe-o, now helping a young mother change her infant, and then Teyla, and with the help of the other Philosophers, got people organized, draped canopies for when the rain began again, and set up a food line.

Late afternoon had arrived before the first of their group could go through. Rodney knew from experience it always took longer than he thought it should to get people through a stargate, and they had two stops before they'd really go home, in the hopes of throwing anyone off their trail. Not that he thought anyone was trailing them, not after all this time, and even if they were, he doubted they'd be looking at a group of Philosophers and students and engineers. They only used this gate every fourth or fifth time. Pegasus was a big galaxy with lots of gates, and they tried to take advantage of that fact. "I never thought I'd be a tour guide," Rodney said to himself. He stayed behind with John, letting the younger people take charge of the groups going through. They could get almost two hundred people and their encumbrances through in a thirty-eight-minute window, but with the inevitable delays and confusion and the need to let other people through, more than five hours had passed before Rodney finally stepped through the gate onto the gamma site. Rodney always called their first stop the gamma site, gamma for time dilation in the Lorentz transformation, because every move took longer than it should have.

Camp was already set up, including Rodney's _yein-e_ 's tent. They'd stay here at least two days, to help people acclimate to the sudden change in their lives, and to be sure that only their people would go through to the next site. Anyone else found here -- occasionally they found strangers among them -- would be sent back through the gate, address of their choice.

Rodney found his tent; it sat, as always, right in the middle, so he could hear every fart and baby's squall all night. He pushed through the flaps to see John sitting in the center of the sleeping rolls, boots off, Ronon tugging John's tee shirt off. "I can undress myself," John was saying irritably, but Ronon ignored him. Rodney flung off the cloak, took off his own boots, and knee-walked to them.

"You ever see a grown man naked?" he leered. John laughed, rolling his eyes.

Ronon said, "That was a stupid movie."

"But funny," John said. "Where's Teyla?"

"God knows. Conquering other worlds."

"I am here," she said, tying the tent flaps closed. "John, you have done too much today. Please undress and lie down. "

"What about me?" Rodney asked, leaning back to follow her as she moved around the perimeter of their sleeping rolls. "Should I undress?" She slipped off her boots, and then pushed down her trousers, the loose leathery ones that felt like suede. "Oh, my god," Rodney said, and fell over dramatically. She was the mother of two grown men, but she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He stared at her thighs, smooth and muscled, and wanted them wrapped around him.

John nudged him with his toe. "You're drooling."

"And you're not?" He rolled over to look at John and smiled. Ronon was easing him out of his trousers and pulling the blue striped boxers with them. Rodney scooted over to help, and then nuzzled John's groin, sniffing deeply.

"You are such a freak," John said, smiling at him.

Rodney nibbled at his too-sharp hipbone, and sucked on his balls. He felt Teyla behind him, tugging at Rodney's clothes. "Mm, let me suck him off first," he complained, keep one hand on John's cock while Teyla dragged his other arm through his tac vest. "This is important." He felt John begin to harden in his hand. Teyla gave up on his vest but began unbuttoning his trousers, so he crouched on his knees, butt in the air, to give her access while still sucking on John. He heard her laugh, the throaty laugh that he recognized and loved, and wiggled his butt. She slapped him lightly, and then licked him. "Oh!" he tried to say, and spread his knees as much as he could with his trousers trapped around them.

"I do believe we are in need of release," Teyla murmured against his skin, her voice a velvety vibration. With John's cock in his mouth, Teyla licking his ass, and Ronon kissing John, Rodney felt completely at home even though he was far away from the white city and their big comfortable bed. He was right where he wanted to be, right where he belonged.

Then Teyla slid a moist finger into him, and he pushed forward, taking more of John into his mouth, groaning with pleasure. He wondered how long they could do this and still get a good night's sleep for tomorrow's big day, but then Ronon pinched John's nipple and John lifted his hips in helpless pleasure, and Rodney could feel Teyla rubbing against his calf while she licked and tongued him and massaged his balls. He gave himself up to the sensations and sounds; John was, to everyone's surprise, the noisiest of them all in bed, and he began to pant and twist. Ronon gently pushed Rodney away and lay down on top of John, his face between John's legs. Rodney kissed Ronon's ear and then turned to Teyla. He kicked off his trousers and pulled her up so he could kiss her, and she could fondle Ronon's hair and John's thighs while she and Rodney rocked together. She'd wrapped her legs around one of his thighs and clenched him tightly. He felt her tremble with climax, and sigh, and then she opened her legs and sat on his prick. She felt like heaven, warm and so wet as she worked her way onto him. He groaned in fierce pleasure but held himself back, letting her do as she wished.

Ronon leaned over him to kiss her breast and make her cry out. John's face hovered over Rodney; he was sweaty and pink with exertion and he tasted like Ronon when he kissed Rodney, who looped his arms over John's shoulders to keep him in place. "Hey," John whispered when they broke apart. Rodney smiled, breathing hard; Teyla was riding him now, squeezing and releasing him while Ronon worked his hand between them, letting Teyla push against his hand while he gripped Rodney's prick. "Christ," Rodney moaned. John laughed lightly and kissed him again. "Oh, oh," Rodney said, "I'm, I --" John held onto him, staring into Rodney's face. "So, so," Rodney gasped, and came, trembling, crying out almost in pain, but John kissed his cries away. "Jesus."

Ronon carefully lifted Teyla from him and lay her on her back, then slid into her. Rodney groaned again just watching, then rolled his head back. "Got a problem?" he asked John, who grinned at him and then knelt over him. Rodney sucked John's cock into his mouth, rolling his balls with his fingers, fingering John's hole while he sucked, and let John fuck his mouth. "Right, yeah, oh," John whispered to Rodney's thigh, letting his head rest for a moment. Rodney sucked harder and John began to move again, slower, deeper, and Rodney could feel John's legs trembling. He heard Ronon groan as he came, and then John froze, but Rodney moved his head, sucking and pinching and John cried out a stream of meaningless syllables. He shuddered and tried to pull away, but Rodney held him near; he'd learned not to let John get away no matter how he tried, and in a moment, John exhaled and relaxed. Rodney released him, and like a faithful dog, John turned around once, then flopped onto Rodney, utterly relaxed and abruptly asleep.

Rodney saw Ronon and Teyla watching them; they smiled at each other. Ronon pulled a light blanket over them, putting Teyla and John in the middle.

No one spoke. The noises of the immigrants had faded in the night, and now only a distant conversation could be heard, and the thin wind. Rodney slept.

  


Something like Composition C-6 had been developed back by the Dhvantii on M3X-944 and Ronon had taken to it like a demolition duck to extremely explosive water. Rodney had watched him pack bricks of it, and now he stood watching Ronon arrange the bricks and charges. "How much longer?" he asked.

"Till it's done," Ronon answered; predictably, Rodney thought.

"We're not supposed to blow up the entire continent." Ronon didn't respond. Rodney sighed and wondered if he had time to sit down before they moved on to the next site. At least they were riding the modified jumper that he'd retrofitted from one that had been destroyed by a Wraith dart years ago. He was really proud of it, and John loved it, but John was at home with Teyla and all the others, just in case.

Ronon checked the map. "Okay, next one." He pointed.

"Not too close to the gate," Rodney said. Ronon gave him a look. "I'm sorry, but it's important! This is powerful stuff, and there's a lot of naquadah in the gate."

"Drive," Ronon said, and Rodney swung his leg over the jumper-bike's saddle and leaned forward. John called it the landspeeder, which Rodney pretended to be annoyed by but in fact he was delighted. Ronon climbed behind him and slid his arms around Rodney's waist, snugging tight against his back and butt. He kissed the back of Rodney's neck. "Go!"

Rodney went. He kept the jumper-bike hovering a few feet above the ground and flew as fast as he dared, both for practice and because he knew it pleased Ronon. Rodney had discovered that, in addition to everything else Ronon could do, he had been trained in demolition and enjoyed employing the C-6, which the Malicieux called _moliri_ after one of their rebel leaders. _Moliri_ was incredibly stable until hit by an electrical charge, but Rodney would still be glad when it was dispersed around the gate rather than stored in their packs.

A few hours later, he lay flat on the ground resting his back while Ronon set the final charge. Driving the jumper-bike over so many miles made his lumbar region seize up. He'd drunk some willow tea and was waiting for it to kick in, but he really wanted the massage he knew he'd get once home.

Ronon flopped down next to him, kicking up dust. Rodney sneezed, then Ronon sneezed, and they both laughed. Ronon stretched his arms over his head, and Rodney enjoyed watching his biceps and triceps slide beneath his skin. Ronon suddenly rolled on top of him and began to wrestle. "Hey, you overgrown labrador puppy," Rodney gasped, but abruptly shut up when Ronon kissed him. He wrapped his legs between Ronon's and held on. "God," Rodney panted, "just, yeah, oh, oh," and then was quiet. They kissed more leisurely, and then Ronon pulled Rodney over again, so he was lying on Ronon's chest.

"Not much longer," Rodney said, and they were quiet together. Rodney listened to Ronon's heartbeat, strong and regular, a lot like Ronon, he thought, and closed his eyes. The continent where the stargate had been situated was enormous and its center, where the stargate was, a desert: hot and very dry, surrounded by low, barren hills stained an ugly yellow. Rodney'd never been to Death Valley, California, but he wondered if it looked like this place: an endless plain surrounded by an endless sky. The horizon was tinged yellow from sulphur in the dust, and there were two visible moons up as well as the sun.

Ronon stood up, all lithe grace, and pulled Rodney to his feet. "We should get back to the jumper, get ready. They might come early."

The jumper was nearly eighty kilometers away and, even at high speed on the bike, it took them nearly an hour to reach it. They'd decided to stay far from the gate, behind a lumpy range of hills. After the bike was loaded into the back of the jumper, Rodney powered it up and initiated all the sensors. Then they waited.

The sun was setting when the gate fired up. Rodney had left a hockey puck-sized satellite hovering geosynchronously above the gate with a tiny camera that could zoom in and resolve images down to a meter. They watched as first as MALP trundled through the gate. Neither of them spoke. Thirty-eight minutes later, the wormhole shut down. Rodney nearly asked Ronon if he thought they'd really come when the gate fired again, the vortex erupted, and the first men came through. Rodney adjusted the satellite's camera, and he and Ronon leaned forward. "That's your sign," Ronon said, and Rodney nodded; at least two were Canadian Forces, with maple leaves on the shoulders of the brown camo. He wondered what that meant, that Canadians were here, whether it had anything to do with him.

"Lorne," Ronon said, and Rodney prepared the jumper for flight. They waited silently, watching intently, and when no more people came through and the stargate shut down, they glanced at each other.

"Christ," Rodney muttered. "I hope this works. Don't fucking kill anyone, okay?"

Ronon didn't answer, just pointed. and Rodney lifted the jumper, moving it slowly toward the gate, keeping as close to the ground as he could. He kept the satellite's camera aimed at the people on the ground, but he had trouble concentrating on flying and what they were doing. "See anything?" he asked Ronon, who shook his head.

"Just milling around. Like they're waiting for something."

"You didn't get anything too close to the gate, did you?"

Ronon sighed. "Get closer and we'll find out."

"Where's Lorne? Do you see him?"

"Yeah, he's here."

Rodney saw that Lorne had moved away from the others, closer to the gate, and was standing still, apparently surveying the area. When the jumper was ten kilometers away, Rodney held position.

Ronon flipped the switch and a half circle the diameter of a small city exploded. The men fell to the ground, some began firing their weapons. Dust rose, growing thicker; two of the explosions had set off small landslides from the low hills around the gate. Within seconds, only the very top of the gate could be seen through the choking yellow dust. "Go!" Ronon said, his hand on Rodney's shoulder. Rodney took the jumper up, above the dust, and around the gate. Visibility was zero, but he had other ways to see, and Lorne's life signs were distinct.

Rodney's hands were sweating and slipping on the controls, but he brought the jumper down carefully, almost on top of Lorne. Ronon dashed to the back and hit the controls; dust immediately roiled in, so Rodney decompressed the cabin, shooting air out the back and clearing a bit. He heard Ronon grunt and a heavy thud, but he couldn't risk turning around. The satellite camera was useless now; he was flying completely by instrument, and wished John were here. Then, "Go!" Ronon shouted again, and Rodney heard the hatch close and the sound of fighting. "Hold it, hold it," Ronon shouted. "It's me, it's us."

"Evan!" Rodney roared, and coughed.

"Holy fucking God," Lorne said, and there was a sudden thump. "It's true. I thought it was a trap."

"Well, it was. In case you haven't noticed, we just kidnapped you," Rodney pointed out.

"Yeah, about that," Ronon said. "If you wanna go back, tell us now. Otherwise, we're going home."

"Take me," Lorne said urgently. "For God's sake, take me with you. I can't -- you don't know, you can't know --"

"Of course we know," Rodney said. "We went to a lot of work to get you here. We know."

"Shit," Lorne said, and his voice broke. Rodney hoped he wasn't going to cry. His own eyes were suspiciously itchy, but it was the sulphur-laced dust, he was sure. "How? No, _why_?"

"Drink," Ronon said to Rodney, shoving an open canteen toward him. He gulped thirstily; his throat felt caked with the desiccating dust of the plains. He coughed, and then drank more.

"I hate this fucking place," he told Ronon. "Is he okay?"

Ronon looked behind Rodney at Lorne. "Sit up here," he said, and herded Lorne into the co-pilot's seat.

"They'll spot you," Lorne said as he settled. He sounded almost panicky to Rodney's ear.

Ronon snorted, and Rodney smiled, his mean smile. He said, "No, they won't. Not if I do this right. We've shielded the jumper; if I keep it low and slow, it's invisible on everything, including on Ancient and Wraith technology, so I don't think _Earth_ technology will be a problem."

"Tau'ri," Ronon corrected him, and Rodney nodded.

"Yeah, Tau'ri. Humans from the Milky Way. Not us," he added, glancing at Lorne, who slowly shook his head.

"Not us," he echoed softly. "Who's us?"

"Let me get this thing out of here. Ronon, you talk."

"Better to show," he growled. "Lorne, you okay?"

"Don't suppose you've got something to eat in here."

Ronon opened one of their packs and pulled out several little containers. "Here's a _matl_ ; we grow 'em ourselves. _Keras_ fruit, some cheese, bread, and water. Help yourself."

"God, fresh stuff." Lorne popped a handful of _keras_ into his mouth, and then bit into a _mati_ , wiping the red juice from his chin. "Fantastic," he said.

"Things bad?" Rodney asked as casually as he could.

"Fucked. Totally fubared," Lorne said through a mouthful. He swallowed. "Where've you been? The IOA's had search teams out for years. All covert; they've even got a new division, the Specialist Crime Directive -- how the hell do you know all this?" Ronon and Rodney had repeated the term with Lorne. "You've got a mole."

Rodney snorted; Ronon laughed out loud. "A mole," Rodney said. "Jesus, you give those guys too much credit for their stealth operations. They're morons, Lorne."

"Whole galaxy knows about 'em," Ronon added, grabbing a handful of _keras_. Rodney glared at him, so he slid one into Rodney's mouth. Without thinking, Rodney licked Ronon's fingers.

"Uh," Lorne said.

"Get used to it," Ronon told him; Rodney lifted his head proudly.

"So where are we going? What's happening?"

Rodney pressed his lips together, but he knew Ronon wouldn't answer. It wasn't his planet causing the problems. "We did have some inside information on you," he finally said. "They were certain you didn't want to work for the IOA, so we've been scouting things out, looking for a way to grab you."

"All this was just for me?"

Ronon looked over his shoulder at Lorne, but remained silent.

"Wow." Lorne continued to eat; it had never occurred to Rodney that he might actually be hungry, though now that he thought about it, Lorne did look slimmer than he remembered. "Where you taking me?" Lorne finally asked.

"Heh," Ronon said.

"Just have to wait and see," Rodney agreed, grinning to himself. "Now, shut up, eat your dinner, and let me fly this thing." They had a long way to go; in order to remain completely shielded, he needed to keep the jumper as close to the ground as possible, and it was fully dark now so he was flying entirely by instruments again. They had nearly five thousand kilometers ahead of them and until they reached the ocean, he was keeping their speed down.

It was nearing midnight local time when he finally saw the glint of waves beneath the double moons. His back muscles were knotted and his hands slick with sweat, but he exhaled deeply and forced himself to relax. No sign of anyone following them, and now, at last, he could rise into the upper atmosphere, free of the turbulence and friction of planet-bound flight.

"You did good, McKay," Ronon said quietly, resting his hand on Rodney's shoulder. He tilted his head back; Rodney followed his gaze and saw that Lorne had fallen asleep. In the dim light, his face was shadowed with hollows.

Rodney shook his head. "I'm worried. Some of those people wore Canadian Forces uniforms, and I'm sure I saw Chinese and French as well. What's going on on Earth?"

"Doesn't matter." Ronon sounded very sure. "You don't live there anymore. You're not that person anymore." He gently shook Rodney's shoulder. "I've seen you change."

"It's still . . ." Rodney hesitated. "Not home, but." He huffed, impatient at himself.

"It's gone," Ronon said. "Like Sateda, it's gone."

"He's right," Lorne said, surprising Rodney. He learned forward, close enough that Rodney could smell his sweat. He smelled tired. "It's gone. It's been gone for years."

After a long silence, Ronon said, "Go back to sleep." He patted Lorne on the knee. "We'll be home soon."

Lorne smiled at him, and Rodney saw in the reflection in the windshield how utterly exhausted he was. He wondered how Lorne had kept going for so many years.

"You gonna be okay to get us back?" Ronon asked Rodney quietly. Rodney nodded, but he took the mug of _bhujati_ that Ronon handed him.

He flew them on, deeper into the night, until they came to morning. High in the thermosphere, Rodney looked down at the glistening day and began to descend. Ronon stirred, and Lorne sat forward again. "Where are we?" he asked.

"Almost home," Ronon said. He half stood, and Rodney saw he was smiling.

"I don't see anything but ocean," Lorne said.

"That's a good thing," Rodney said. "We worked hard at that."

"Like water flowing around a rock," Ronon said, and they grinned at each other.

"Oh-kay," Lorne said, but he was grinning, too.

They descended further and then Ronon tapped his earpiece. "Akrotiri, this is Jumper One, do you read?"

"Jumper One, welcome home," Chuck said.

"Holy cats, that's --"

"Yup," Rodney said. He was smiling so hard his face hurt. "Now just wait. Don't spoil our surprise. Surprises."

Lorne leaned between them, looking hard at the glittering ocean. "What did you call this place? Are you submerged? What's going on?"

"All will be revealed," Rodney said, and then tapped his own earpiece. "Coming in on instruments; prepare to transition to auto-pilot."

"Transitioning," Chuck said.

Rodney dramatically raised his hands into the air. The jumper skimmed over the surface of the water, close enough to see daylight through the crests of each wave. The water was utterly clear, tinged blue at the troughs, and Rodney laughed, thinking of John and Ronon and Teyla surfing it while he watched safely beneath an umbrella of his own devising. Then suddenly they were beneath the meta-shield and Lorne gasped. "Welcome home," Rodney said.

The white city spread out before them, larger than Atlantis had been, larger than London, a white flower floating on the sea. The buildings were made of some white material that gleamed in the sunshine, and had been trimmed with pastels. Winding white stairs traced routes up and down the artificial hills, surrounding gardens and pastures. "I can't believe this," Lorne breathed.

They landed in the town centre, beneath the campanile, not far from the tram-train station. A small crowd of people had already gathered, and when the rear hatch opened, Ronon had Lorne by the arm, leading him carefully down the ramp to the cobblestone square.

John and Teyla were there first, smiling. They greeted Lorne: John shaking his hand, Teyla pulling him down to rest her forehead against his before kissing him. "Welcome, welcome," she beamed at him.

"I don't understand. Where is this place? Why did you bring me here?"

"Uh, that would be my doing," Radek said.

"Doc." Lorne's mouth dropped open. Rodney crossed his arms, trying not to smile so hard. Ronon grabbed Rodney to hug him fiercely, then released him to John's and Teyla"s embraces. They stood together, leaning on each other as they watched Radek shyly take Lorne's hands. "This is something I think you want, yes? Did I guess wrong?"

Lorne stared at Radek for a long minute; he looked pale and thin, Rodney thought, and disbelieving. Then he seized Radek around the shoulders and gasped out, "Radek," in a whispery voice. Rodney turned his head to give them a moment of privacy. He turned back when he heard Radek say, "Then I did not guess wrong."

Lorne said, "Yes, I mean no, you didn't guess wrong, but Radek, how long? I don't understand . . ." Lorne turned to look at John. "Sir?"

"Well, Radek said he needed you here, and we need Radek happy, and so," John shrugged.

Lorne finally looked around at the others waiting in the town centre. "Stackhouse?" Lorne said; Rodney thought he sounded dazed.

"Hey, welcome." Stackhouse shook Lorne's hand, grinning at him. "I knew you'd come. Look, Levine is here, and Kleinman from the _Daedalus_ , remember him? And Doctor Biro, but she's up at the clinic this morning." He shook Lorne's hand again. "Damn, Colonel. It's good to see you."

"But you died in the Milky Way; I attended your memorial service. And Biro retired; she volunteered for Médecins Sans Frontières. I heard she was in the Sudan. Kleinman was -- Dave, you were _court martialed_."

Kleinman beamed at him. "Yeah. I was sentenced to six months for insubordination."

Lorne put a hand to his forehead. "I just can't believe this. I can't." He turned to Radek again. "Doc -- you died _in front of my eyes_. I saw, you --"

Rodney looked away from Lorne's pain. He felt John stir, but Radek said gently, "My dear friend, I have missed you. I am sorry you witnessed that, but I needed to be dead. And Evan," Radek hesitated and then said even more gently, "Evan, you are dead, too. What Ronon and Rodney did at the stargate, they made it look as though you were, ah, blown up."

Lorne said, "My mom was killed --"

"We know. We heard. _Promiňte_ , Evan. _Velmi jsi mi chyběl_."

Lorne put his arms around Radek, who buried his face in Lorne's shoulder. " _Miluji tě, Radeke_ ," Rodney heard Lorne murmur. _Miluji tě_."

Radek sniffed and looked up at him. "Welcome home."

"Aww," Stackhouse and Kleinman said in unison, and Stackhouse slapped Lorne on the back. "Gotta get back to work, but maybe this evening Radek will show you the _yposkafa_ ", Stackhouse said. "Come visit us."

John stepped forward. "Take him home, Radek. Evan, really, welcome. You're the last. I'm sorry it took so long." They shook hands and then, to Rodney's surprise, Evan saluted John, holding the salute until John returned it.

"Thank you, sir," Evan said, his voice husky. Radek took his arm and lead him up the hill.

"Rodney, I will not be in today."

Rodney waved regally. "Take your time. I'll dock your pay."

" _Do prdele,_ " Radek muttered, but Rodney only beamed at his back.

John grabbed his arm. "You're not going in today, either," he said, and he led Rodney down the whitewashed stairway, following Ronon and Teyla, to their own _kapetanea_ , to their own home and bed.

"Sir!" Rodney and the others paused. John turned back to look at Radek and Evan. "Faith John? That you?"

Radek smiled at them, and took Evan's arm to lead him to their home.

  


"Hey, Gandalf," John said. He sat cross-legged next to Rodney, and bit into his apple thing. "So what you got?" he asked. "Flights of scintillating birds? Fountains of butterflies? A green and gold dragon?"

"Ha ha," Rodney said, but he was tickled at the idea of himself as Gandalf. Would that make John Bilbo? More likely Elvenking Thranduil. He grinned to himself, ducking his head, but John saw and laughed. "You'll be surprised to learn that I'm not a wizard."

"I'm only surprised to hear you admit it," John said, and took another bite of his apple thing. "I'm also surprised that you agreed to do this."

"Ah, hell, it's time we celebrated. And I've worked long enough today; I can spare the time -- this is just a few little fillips for the show. Besides, I think we did pretty good." He looked at John, deeply curious.

John nodded. "We did. We are doing good. And I'm surprised, too."

"At still being alive? Not nearly as surprised as I am that you're still alive." He looked at John, feeling the familiar twist of fond irritation. John looked good sitting on the dock in shorts and a ratty USMC tee-shirt. His feet were bare and his hairy legs brown as a nut. Without thinking, Rodney reached out and gently tweaked John's little toe, making him squawk and laugh. "No, it's fun. I haven't done any chemistry in a while. Gbagbo is a good chemist, and Abhi-o is brilliant, so we worked up some good stuff. Great colours, and interesting designs."

"Cool."

Rodney felt John watching him so he set down the paper tube he was filling and stretched his back muscles. "Time for a break, I think." He scooted from his seat on a rusty capstan to sit next to John. "I'm hungry."

"You cannot have my apple thing," John said, but Rodney grabbed at it, and they wrestled, laughing at each other.

"God, you're so . . ." Rodney said, and then kissed John's hot, sweet, apple-thingy mouth.

"Hey, they started without us," Rodney heard Ronon say. Their old pack thumped down next to him, then he felt Ronon's big hands on his back, and Ronon's breath against his neck.

"Dinner?" Rodney asked not letting go of John. "Who cooked?"

"The Mermaid Tavern," Teyla said proudly. "I assure you that I would not try to poison you, Rodney."

"Mmm," John said, and tossed the remains of his apple thing into the sea. "You're the only one who wouldn't," he said to Teyla, but let go of Rodney to pull the battered pack to him. Rodney remembered carrying bricks of _moliri_ in it, and their few pieces of clothing, and dried food that had to be choked down. Today it was full of neatly folded packets of sweet fish in warm bread, drenched in the vinegar-and-oil he loved, leaved with sea-watercress. "God, this looks good."

"Gimme," Rodney said, seizing a packet. He unfolded it and sniffed ecstatically at the warm sandwich. He had to wipe his chin with his shirt sleeve, moaning at the flavour. "Thank you so much."

"Shouldn't we eat on the _draga_?" John asked, opening his leaf-packet more slowly.

"We can eat then, too," Rodney said. "We have time now. It won't leave till full dark."

Rodney lay down, his head on Ronon's bony shin, to finish his sandwich. Overhead, stars glimmered faintly, just beginning to emerge in the twilight. Akrotiri was blessed with a triple moon, and when all three were up, the women secretly called them _Trefoil_ , though why they thought it was a secret, Rodney didn't know. Surely they didn't worship Trefoil. He wondered if he could ask Teyla, but immediately dismissed the idea.

This evening was moonless, though, just like it would be for the celebration of Akrotiri and the success of the meta-shield and the gathering of the Pegasus people. That would be a good night, Rodney thought, and though he'd never admit it, he was anticipating the party with a lot of pleasure. He didn't really object to all the work he was doing creating comet and flower fireworks; it was, in fact, a lot of fun.

John lay next to him, and he put his arm around John's shoulder, urging him closer. Ronon lifted Rodney's head and gently slid a folded jacket under him, then scooted down to lie next to him, while Teyla curled up next to John. Rodney sighed.

He saw a light flare and then settle into a little lantern; other people were coming down to the dock to enjoy the evening air. Some kids started a bonfire on the beach a half a kilometer away, sparks rising into the sky like a reverse meteor shower, and he could hear someone singing.

He turned his head toward John to find he was being watched. "Hey," he whispered.

John strained up to kiss Rodney. "We were interrupted," he whispered back, and pinched Rodney's tummy. Ronon's arm came across Rodney to lie against John's cheek, and Teyla rose up to peer across him at Rodney.

Rodney kissed John back, and wove his fingers together with John's. "John Sheppard, my jo, John," he whispered into John's ear, knowing Teyla and Ronon were listening:

"When we were first acquent,  
Your locks were like the raven,  
Your bonie brow was brent;  
But now your brow is beld, John,  
Your locks are like the snaw,  
but blessings on your frosty pow,  
John Sheppard, my jo!"

"John Sheppard, my jo," Teyla repeated, kissing John's temple.

"My locks are not like the snaw," John complained, but Rodney thought they were.

"At least you _have_ locks," he said, "snaw or otherwise."

"Hey, Mami," Torren called. He and his partner waved; his son was perched on his shoulder hanging onto his hair with both hands. "Uncles! Will you not come to the bonfire with us?"

Teyla waved gracefully at them. "We are leaving tonight, my son." They waved again, then the baby jounced excitedly and they laughed as they wandered toward the fire on the beach. Teyla kissed Rodney. "I am so grateful to you, that our grandchildren will grow up safe and fearless."

"Well, Rodney said, trying to be modest, but he felt swollen with delight that he could do this for Teyla and all the people he loved. "Couldn't have Faith John running off on suicidal missions anymore."

Ronon shook Rodney. "Say _thank you_ ," he scolded.

"Thank you, Teyla," Rodney said, and they kissed again. John slid his hand down the front of Rodney's trousers, the backs of his fingers brushing Rodney's cock. Rodney groaned, and pushed into him.

"Faith John also thanks you," John said softly, playing with the head of Rodny's cock, making him wiggle against Ronon.

"Right here, on the dock?" Rodney asked.

"It is time to go to the _draga_ station," Teyla reminded them, and Rodney obediently sat up and helped pack up their leftovers. He saw that Teyla and Ronon had already packed his clothing and toiletries, and he knew that Gbagbo and Abhi-o had made arrangements for the rest of the fireworks to be loaded onto the _draga_. He'd doublecheck when they were on board, just to be sure their students hadn't forgotten in all the excitement. Wouldn't be a proper party without fireworks.

"Not going to the bonfire tonight?" He heard Radek call when they'd started back. He looked up to see Radek and Evan walking toward them down the curving lane, Evan carrying a lantern.

"Heading out tonight," Ronon said. "You?"

"Tomorrow, midday," Evan said. "Thought we'd sleep in."

"We will be there in time for the feast," Radek said, "and of course for the fireworks. Goodnight, _kapetanea_."

"Goodnight, _panepistima_ ," John called, waving at them, then draping his arm over Rodney's shoulder. "Lorne settled in well," he murmured. Rodney nodded. He was gratified to see Radek so happy after so many years of loneliness; it had been worth all their hard work to have stolen Lorne away.

They climbed Little Hill to their local station where the tram-train _draga_ hovered, lights glowing from its windows. Others also streamed up the hill, and they joined the cheerful queues.

"Faith John! Faith John!" several called, and Rodney beamed, though he did put himself between John and the happy crowd as they slowly made their way to the tram-train.

"They see you every day," he grumped, passing his pack up to Teyla and accepting Ronon's help climbing up to the _draga_. He turned to haul John up after him.

"He is much loved," Teyla reminded Rodney, "and not only by us."

When they were settled aboard in their own compartment, and Rodney had made sure the fireworks supplies were safely stored, and he'd eaten another sandwich and shared a bowl of _keras_ fruit and a mug of _bhujati_ with John, Ronon unrolled a blanket, the one they'd used in their tent when they were still traveling, when their tent and rug and sleeping rolls and each other were the only home they had. Rodney opened the sliding window and leaned out for a moment; the air was intoxicatingly warm, and sweet with the scent of ocean. He could see little lights gleaming in the hills, and caught glimpses of whitewashed homes. Beyond them, only ocean: dark and deep and midnight blue, encircling the entire world.

"Come to bed," John said, and Rodney came, slipping out of his clothes and under the light blanket next to John. On the other side of Rodney was Teyla and on the far side of John lay Ronon. He lay there in the dark, rocked by the motion of the _draga_ as it skimmed over the hills to the far side of the lost city of Akrotiri, letting the soft noises of the _draga_ and its gentle motion lull him to sleep. The celebration was at the northern-most side of the city, near the Porter's Lodge which greeted visitors from the sea. The spires of the Lodge rose like the central tower back in Atlantis, but Rodney thought the Lodge was prettier -- more delicate, like lacy crystal. He looked forward to spending some time there, and not just for the celebration.

John turned to face Rodney. "Hey," he whispered, though Rodney knew neither Teyla nor Ronon was asleep yet. "Busy day tomorrow. You gonna be all right?"

"Of course," Rodney said. "Provided that my every whim is catered to and I get a blow job."

John kissed him. "Seems to me we were interrupted earlier."

"I seem to remember that as well."

John pulled Rodney to him, and he went happily, nuzzling John's neck and ears, kissing him, pushing against him. One of the best things about getting old, Rodney had decided, was how long it took him to get warmed up. And the best thing about their new life was that he could have John. And Ronon, and beautiful Teyla, of course, but John came first; he had from the start and he always would.

He whispered into John's ear, "If I were the sappy type, I might say something sappy now, like how much I love you, and how happy you make me."

"Good thing we're not the sappy type," John whispered back before kissing him firmly, rolling on top of Rodney to hold him steady.

Rodney slid his hand to the back of John's head, tilting him a bit so he could kiss him more deeply. John's mouth was so familiar now, his body so known yet still so desirable, so exciting; Rodney didn't think he'd ever wanted John more. "I might be," he gasped, and kissed and licked his way down John's body.

"Might be what?" John breathed raggedly, clutching at Rodney's head. "Sappy?"

"Something like," he said, and then forgot about everything but John.

  


  


* * *

[Auburnnothenna](http://auburnnothenna.livejournal.com) audienced an early draft of this; [Hyvarken](http://hyvarken.insanejournal.com) betaed it; [Namastenancy](http://namastenancy.livejournal.com) audienced a late version. Thank you all!


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